


The sun will set for you.

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Karim, Baristas, Caretaking, Childhood Trauma, Coffee Shops, Comfort/Angst, Cristiano has ADD, Eventual Romance, Forced Prostitution, Injury Recovery, Kindness, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:16:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Karim is a successful striker for Real Madrid, the best football team in the world.One day when he drives home after a game he sees someone being beaten up in the middle of the street. He can't just let that slide now can he?





	1. The shadow of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> So Cristiano and Karim don't know each other in this story. Cristiano is a prostitute and Karim is the successful football player. I thought about doing it the other way around, but that would have been the obvious choice wouldn't it? 
> 
> Karim being the one who saves Cristiano is sort of my weakness.  
> I've thoroughly missed writing about them and was in need of making a new fic on these two. Not sure how long it will be just yet. 
> 
> Think of this sort of like a Pretty Woman AU.

_Madrid winter of 2015_.

 

 

 

 

''Good game Benzo! See you at training tomorrow!'' Marcelo chimed as he patted Karim on his back and gave him a fist-bump. They had just beaten Real Sociedad with 3-0 in the Bernabeu and Karim was feeling very ecstatic.

Winning was like a natural drug. It lifted everyones spirits.  
Even when you played in a team that was used to winning most of their games. The sensation of it _never_ got old.

''Yes, see you guys,'' Karim replied with a toothy grin. Iker walked him back to his car, seeing how they always parked close together and they quietly discussed the tactics of the game, as Iker loved to do after any game. Everyone hated that about him, but they all accepted it because he was Iker. 

''You played very well today Karim, two goals and an assist. Very impressive,'' Iker said bluntly.  
He had a knack for that. To blatantly blur out whatever he was thinking. Up to the point where it made you really uncomfortable.

''Thanks, isn't Sergio going with you?''  
''No, he's meeting me at my place. The press has been speculating about us again. They're really on our ass, so to speak,''

''Gee, I wonder _why,''_ Karim said dryly. ''I mean no offense, but anyone with a working set of eyes can tell that you're doing it,''  
''You sound more like Pepe everyday,''

''Well we're not wrong are we?''

''Nope,'' Iker's tone indicated that this topic was not up for further discussion. So Karim decided to call it a night and drive home. ''All right, well see you in the morning Iker,''

''Yeah, goodnight Benzo, drive safe,''

Karim watched Iker drive off in his club Audi with a sharp glance. He worried for him and Sergio sometimes. How long they would be able to keep their clearly obvious relationship hidden. If the truth would ever come out, they would never hear the end of it.

Their careers would be practically over. Karim had never understood it- how two men could fall in love in the first place- but how they were so shameless to display their affection for the entire world was beyond him.

To him, men dating men was highly _unnatural_. He was raised a Muslim but didn't consider himself to be very strict about it. He didn't pray, didn't go to the Mosque and he never partook in the Ramadan.  
His family had protested that of course, but due to his success as a football player and the fact that he supported many of them financially ensured that the complaining eventually stopped.

They were living a good life thanks to his career. Therefore Karim didn't want to be hackled and talked down to by his father. He was an adult now, he could make his own choices. Most of his sisters didn't follow their religion either.

Karim stepped into his silver Mercedes Benz and drove out of the parking garage, onto the busy traffic of the streets of Madrid. A fresh blanket of snow was silently turning the world quiet once again. Karim felt it enchant him, as snow always did and nearly slammed into the curb a few times.

When he halted in front of a traffic light, he noticed a scrimmage nearby. Someone was getting beat up on the sidewalk by three other men.

Karim quickly acted and parked his car on the empty taxi space and jumped out of his car. He wasn't even thoroughly thinking this through. What was he going to do? He was all alone and there were three of them, kicking and raining down punches on the crouched figure on the floor.

''Hey!'' he heard himself shout, and he saw the men freezing and turning toward him. He quickly fished his cellphone out of his pocket. ''I've called the police! They're on their way here now. Get out of here!''

The men hesitated for a split second but eventually turned and ran for the hills. Only when they had took off did it dawn on Karim how reckless he had behaved. If those guys had slightly more guts, they would have turned their anger onto him, making him the next target of their fury. It could have ended with him lying in a hospital bed or worse. Somehow the adrenaline had acted on his behalf. Made him braver than he was feeling right now. 

The hooded figure on the sidewalk was groaning and wheezing. Karim carefully walked toward him, afraid to spook the man if he moved too fast. ''I'm not here to hurt you, I just want to make sure that you are okay. Don't be afraid,'' he hushed.

The man did not run or flinch, so Karim took that as a small victory. He kneeled down at the man's feet and their eyes met. Karim's jaw nearly dropped. The man was absolutely beautiful, despite his shabby clothes and slight stubble. When he saw the look in the eyes he doubted if this man was ever afraid of anything. He looked like a designated, born survivor. A bit rough around the edges but tough as nails. 

There was something familiar about him too, as if Karim had met him before. A warm feeling was creeping over his spine when he stared into the curious, chestnut colored eyes.

The mysterious gaze was guarded and heavy lidded, the eyes appeared to conceal the darkest, most sinister secrets of the world. Karim was instantly intrigued by the man, although he could not tell why.  
It was clear to him that whoever this man was, he was used to living on the streets, even in the snowy days like today. Hardened by it. It was freezing out and he wondered if he had a place to find shelter.

When the man stayed eerily silent, Karim spoke once again. ''What's your name?''  
The man blinked at him and rose to his feet, never once breaking their eye contact and exhaled a big cloud of hot air. ''Cristiano,''

''My name is Karim. Do you have a place to sleep tonight Cristiano?''  
Cristiano eyes widened at the sound of Karim's name. ''You are Karim Benzema,'' he gaped, jaw faltering in awe. He had cleverly sidestepped Karim's question.

''I am,''  
''You're one of the best strikers Real has ever seen,''

Karim flushed awkwardly. He had never been good at accepting compliments. ''Nah, I can't hold a candle to Raul to be fair. He will always be better than me. The crowd loved him. They're not too crazy about me. It's my background I suppose,''

Cristiano sighed aggravated and patted some of the snow off of his shabby, old clothes. ''Well they should be crazy about you, people who don't like you just don't see how much work you do for the team. They don't understand football tactics if they don't value you. I watch the Real games in Trattorias and to me, you are one of the best,''

Karim smiled appreciatively. ''Thank you, sounds like you know a lot about football,''

''Well I used to play a little when I was younger,''

Karim heard a distinctive accent in Cristiano's Spanish that told him that he was not from Spain. ''Where are you from Cristiano?''

''Originally from Madeira, but when my family kicked me out when I was seventeen I moved to Madrid to work. But as you can probably tell, it hasn't worked out so well for me,'' Cristiano exasperated, as he applied pressure to his bloody lip with the wet sleeve of his jacket. He was bruised and bleeding all over his face. His fingers were red and mangled.

''We need to get you to a hospital,'' Karim said firmly.  
''I can't afford that, besides it's nothing too serious. Just some cuts and bruises,'' Cristiano snorted dismissively. ''I'm used to worse than this,''

''That doesn't make it okay, besides, I have money. I will take you to a hospital. Just get in the car and let me help you,''

Cristiano gave him a cocky smirk. ''Sorry Karim, but I _don't_ take charity from anyone, not even from you,''

Karim was slightly taken aback by that accusation. ''It's not charity, I just want to help you,''

The Portuguese sneered furiously. ''Right out of the goodness of your heart. Because you are so _noble_. And what do you want in return?''

''What do you mean, what do I want?''  
''Everybody wants _something_ from me. To use me as their punching bag, to fuck me senseless, take your pick. Which of the two sounds more appealing to you?''

Karim swallowed thick. ''Neither, but are you telling me that you're working as a-''

''A _whore_? Yes,''

''Why?'' Karim asked. Fuck, why was his voice wavering like that?  
What was it about Cristiano that threw his entire stoic balance off like that?

''Didn't have much of a choice. Not everyone is made for success like you were. Some of us actually manage to screw up their lives, to see their hopes and dreams being shattered. I was working here as a Barista for a time but one night when I was walking home I-well let's just say that I was picked up by a pimp and thrown into the world of prostitution and drugs. I've been pimped out ever since I was nineteen. I'm nearly thirty now,''

''But why wasn't your- _pimp_ -protecting you from those men?''

''He died a few days ago from a drug overdose, so it's just me now. Some associates of my pimp stole my good clothes so I have nothing left to seduce people with, therefore no way to make money.  
I was just walking the streets, looking for leftover food when they ran into me. They recognized me from a few years ago, they had ordered me for the night back then, and decided they wanted a little reunion without having to pay for it.  
When I refused and they beat me up. Then _you_ showed up. My knight in shining armor,'' Cristiano told the story with such a light, careless tone that it gave Karim goosebumps.

As if it was _nothing_. He figured that Cristiano was used to living like this, but to him a life like that sounded absolutely horrifying.

Karim wanted to extend his hand to touch Cristiano's shoulder but something told him that it would be a bad idea. Too much, too soon. ''Look I'm sorry that all of this happened to you. I really am. But I don't _want_ anything in return from you. I just want to know you are all right. So please just let me take you to the bloody hospital okay?''

Cristiano seemed hesitant but eventually conceded a tight nod that told Karim that he still wasn't sure about his intentions. ''All right,''  
''Good, my car is over there,'' Karim said calmly, as he pointed at his Mercedes.

Cristiano sat down in the passengers seat and admired the car intensely. ''You have very good taste in cars. If I were rich like you I would have twenty cars like these. I _love_  nice cars,'' he noted as his fingers danced over the supple leather of his seat.

''Thanks, put on your seatbelt,''

Cristiano creased an eyebrow. _''Seriously?''_  
''Seriously,'' Karim retorted stern.

''Fine,'' Cristiano buckled in and sighed, looking annoyed. Perhaps he felt that Karim was patronizing him.

They drove in a tensed silence to the nearest hospital. Karim wasn't sure what to say, what could he say to someone who had been through so much shit? He had never been particularly good at being a comforter. Dealing with someone who was abused and mangled like this was far out of his league.

He parked in the underground garage of the hospital and waited patiently for Cristiano to follow him. When they took the elevator up, Karim noticed Cristiano's limp in his left leg and the way his lips ground together furiously each time he inhaled. Karim suspected he had broken or bruised a few ribs.

They registered themselves at the ER and waited for a doctor to arrive. ''Señor Benzema and Señor Ronaldo, ah there you are. You can come in now,'' the blond, female doctor said as she offered both of them a firm handshake. ''My name is doctor Sonia Gonzales. Please take a seat on the table Señor Ronaldo,''

''Thank you doctor,'' Karim said when Cristiano said nothing.

''Now I heard that you got involved in an altercation on the streets. Can you tell me where it hurts? All pains are relevant so don't leave anything out,''  
Cristiano conveyed the doctor closely, clearly mistrusting her as he probably did with everyone around him.

When he was through investigating her, his dark gems darted back to Karim, his gaze pleading and panicked. Karim rose from his seat and stood beside Cristiano, sensing that he needed him. He didn't touch him but leaned in a bit and whispered into Cristiano ear, ''It will be fine, you can trust her. She means well,''

The Portuguese eyes turned big as saucers, he was clearly impressed. ''You speak Portuguese?''

''Well not very well as you can hear, but I do try. Marcelo and Pepe taught me a bit of it,'' Karim said solemnly as they switched back to Spanish.

This small gesture seemed to calm Cristiano, so that he finally found the strength to answer the doctor's questions. He told her about his painful ribs, his knee that they had stepped on repeatedly, and the consuming pain in his fingers.  
The doctor took some X-rays and determined that his ribs had only been badly bruised, luckily not broken but that his knee had a ruptured muscle, which would take a long time to heal.

His fingers were so painful due to the cold weather. She prescribed medicine for his knee and ribs and stitched the cuts on his face up as well as she could. When she was done, she suggested a wheelchair for Cristiano, which he firmly laughed off. He would walk himself. No need for that _ludicrous_ chair, he said dismissively. Karim could already tell that Cristiano was quite proud and could behave slightly arrogant. 

Karim paid the medical bills and walked Cristiano back to his car.

He even opened the door for him, which earned him a sharp, disapproving look from the Portuguese.

Cristiano conveyed Karim closely during the drive out of the garage and back onto the main road. ''Thank you Karim, for everything,''

''You're welcome,''

''You can drop me off at my usual neighborhood. I'll be fine from there on,''

''No,'' Karim said firmly, as he halted in front of a traffic light. ''You're not going back there. No chance in hell,''

''Uh _yes_ I am, I have a little money to stay in a shelter for tonight. I won't have to sleep on the streets, don't worry,''

''I don't care, I'm not dumping you back in that dangerous neighborhood. You're staying with me tonight. I have plenty of spare bedrooms available, besides the doc said you have to be monitored because of your injuries. Whether you like it or not, I'll be your nurse from now on,'' Karim said determined.

Cristiano snorted. ''Look man, this isn't Pretty Woman okay? You don't just adopt a hooker, take them into your house and they live happily ever after.  
It doesn't work like that in the real world. I know you mean well and I can tell you have a very good heart, but I can't accept all of this.  
I'm not used to people wanting to take care of me okay, I've always had to fend for myself. I don't know how to accept charity because I'm used to distrusting everything that happens around me,''

''I get that, I do. But I don't _care_. I don't want you going back there tonight. Those guys might still be waiting for you to return. What's the harm in staying somewhere safe for one night? It won't cost you anything, I just want to know you're okay,'' Karim ensured him. ''I understand why you don't trust anyone, I wouldn't either with your background, but I'm asking you to have a little faith in me. I only want the best for you. Not all people are out to get or to hurt you. Some of us are actually decent and kind,''

''I know and I can tell that you are a good guy, but still-''

''Just for one night, tomorrow you can go wherever you want. I promise,''  
Cristiano wavered slightly but eventually agreed. ''All right,''

Karim nodded content, considering it a small victory and drove Cristiano to his house. He saw the Portuguese's stunned expression when he saw the sheer size of his home. ''God, you live here?'' he gasped.

''Yes, and don't say it like _that_. It makes me feel uncomfortable and a bit guilty,''  
''You really can't take a compliment can you?''

''I'm glad you picked up on that so quickly,'' Karim grinned. He shut the garage behind them and walked Cristiano the the front door. He opened it with his three keys and quickly turned his alarm system off. ''Come on in,''

He lead the wounded man inside and hung both their coats on the rack. ''So make yourself at home. My little girl is staying at her mom's place tonight so there's nobody home except for us,''

''Right, you have a daughter don't you?''

''Yes, Melia, she's two years old and spend most of my free time with me,'' Karim picked up a framed picture that was resting above the counter and handed it to Cristiano.

''Aww she's adorable,'' Cristiano cooed as the first sincere smile washed over his beautiful features.  
Karim snorted. ''Well most of the times yes, though she is going through the toddler puberty now. She's a real handful sometimes. Please sit, it hurts to look at you,''

''I'll bet,'' Cristiano sank down on the couch with a painful grimace.  
''Have you eaten anything today? I can make you something, the doc said you have to take your painkillers with food,''

''I had something a few hours ago, but I could use some food yes,'' Cristiano admitted.  
''What would you like?''

''Hmm I don't know, a sandwich or something like that? I'm not a picky eater as you can imagine,''

''Really? A sandwich? I have some leftover chicken salad if you want to eat something healthy,'' Karim suggested.  
Cristiano eyes lit up. ''Salad? That sounds amazing,''

''Great, what do you want to drink?''  
''Just some water would be good, thank you,''

''All right, coming right up. Oh here take this,'' Karim walked to his closet and pulled out a blue plaid. He covered Cristiano's frail body with it and handed him a pillow. ''You were shivering,''

''Well winters in Madrid are pretty fucking cold,'' Cristiano retorted sarcastically.

''I know, I'll be right back, make yourself comfortable okay,'' Karim disappeared into the kitchen where he prepared a big plate of chicken, pasta salad for Cristiano, with a giant slice of fresh bread and salted butter on the side.

He also heated some vegetable soup his sister had made him and spilled a bit of it over the tray in the rushed process. He was always so clumsy.

When he returned to the living room, he saw that Cristiano had curled up like a fetus, facing the kitchen. His eyes were sharp and clear, something that Karim admired about him.  
Normal people would have been absolutely exhausted if they had gone through something so traumatic as Cristiano had, but not him. Clearly the Portuguese was still a bit weary of him, despite the fact that Karim had probably saved his life tonight.

''I hope you like soup, I just remembered that I had some vegetable soup my sister made resting in my fridge,'' Karim said, as he put the tray on the end table and handed Cristiano the glass of water. He drank it in one large tug, spilling some of it over his chin. ''Thanks, I love soup by the way,''

When Karim handed him his plate of salad, the older man frowned. ''Don't you want me to eat it at the table? I might spill salad all over your expensive couch,''

Karim shrugged. ''Normally I do eat at the table, but you can barely sit up without cringing in pain, so I'm fine with you eating over here. Don't worry about the couch, if something get's spilled I'll call someone to fix it,'' when he realized how arrogant and spoiled that sounded he quickly added, ''it's one of the advantages of having too much money for your own good. I didn't mean it like that-''

Cristiano shook his head. ''Don't worry about it. You don't have to apologize for your success.  
I've seen you during your career and you're a very impressive guy Karim. You had to prove yourself when Raul left. Filling his shoes is basically _impossible_ to do. I know how the crowd booed you and scolded on you. You earned every cent of this money. I've seen how hard you work,''

''That may be true but the amount of money we make is still really insane if you ask me. For the job that we do.  
Normal people are suffering and can barely pay their bills, while working more than forty hours and we get paid millions for playing one game a week and going to training a couple times a week. It's just not fair,'' Karim snarled.

Cristiano smiled at him as if he were a small child that had said something endearing. ''Sweet Karim, _nothing_ is ever fair. Life is hard for all of us,''  
''Yeah though it might be a bit harder for people like you, don't you think?''

''I know you think that I'm living this insane, dangerous life, but it wasn't all bad. I had some good years too. When my pimp was still alive, I was mostly safe. I had a roof over my head, earned some money by performing the oldest profession in the world and I even had friends. This is just shocking to you because you're totally foreign to the details of my life. But to me this is just another hiccup. Yes my pimp died and now I'm unprotected, but I can always find another one to take care of me. You learn to adapt very quickly with this lifestyle. If you don't adapt, you die,'' Cristiano told him.

Karim's ears were ringing. Cristiano's stories made him utterly sad. He had known about the existence of prostitutes of course, but hearing the stories first hand was completely different.

Unlike some of his more eccentric teammates, Karim had never ordered a whore, so was little experienced with them.

He preferred to have voluntary sex with people who actually gave a crap about him. The whole idea of a call girl had never appealed to him. To be honest, it grossed him out.  
Cristiano's eyes narrowed when he saw Karim's conflicting emotions. ''Don't worry, eventually you stop caring about death too. When those guys were beating me up in that alley tonight, I was sure I was going to die. And you know what I felt?'' Karim shook his head wearily. Did he want to hear the answer?  
''I felt nothing but a hint of relief. It was going to be over soon. That realization didn't affect me whatsoever. I know that it must be hard for you to understand, but when you live like I do, the meaning of life changes radically,''

Karim shuddered involuntarily. Cristiano's innate strength was admirable, and yet he had a feeling that the total disregard for his own life was mostly show. His way of staying strong in a world where weakness was deadly.

He sat down besides Cristiano for support but left the option to close contact to the other man. Cristiano scooted in a bit closer so that their legs were slightly touching. ''You shouldn't say such things, it's shocking to hear,'' Karim said, as he cursed the waver in his voice.

''This is my life Karim, and yes it sucks sometimes, but it is what it is,''  
''It doesn't _have_ to be like this. I can help you find a real job, some financial security and such,''

''I was quite happy to be a Barista thank you very much,''  
''Fine, I'll help you get that job back then,''

Cristiano smiled suddenly. ''You certainly are _persistent_ aren't you? But let me ask you one thing: who does it have to be you?''

Karim was momentarily starstruck by the content of the question. ''What do you mean?''

''Why does it have to be you who has to rescue me? Do you have some sort of God-complex?''  
''Uh not that I know of,''

''No I didn't think so. So why are you so keen on being my savior? Anyone can do it, why are _you_ volunteering for the job?''

Karim pondered on that for a long time. Cristiano had carved out a good point. Why was he so fixated on helping the Portuguese? Maybe he felt responsible because he had been the one who found him, or maybe he merely couldn't deny the instant connection he felt to the other man.

It felt like he had known him forever. In rare occasions Karim would meet someone like that, who he instantly bonded with whether he liked it or not. Cristiano seemed to be one of those people who clawed their way under his skin without his permission and had now settled in for the long haul. Karim already cared for him. Knowing that it made no logical sense whatsoever. 

''Honestly, I'm not sure. Maybe it's because I feel like I've known you for a long time you know. Like we instantly bonded. At least that's how meeting you was to me,''

Cristiano smiled, but his eyes indicated that he was resisting the urge to mock Karim. ''Oh Karim, you have so much more to learn. You don't become friends with a whore, you don't take them into your home and treat them as if they are family. It's weird. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, but I can't stay here,''

''Can't or won't?'' Karim fired back, feeling slightly stung by Cristiano's patronizing words.

This clearly took Cristiano by surprise. The older man cupped his soup bowl and started sipping it slowly. The lack of answer told Karim everything he needed to know.

''Here, take your meds,'' he said cooly, as he handed Cristiano the pills and the glass of water to help him swallow.  
''Karim I-''

''Save it okay, I'm going to get some tea,'' Karim stormed into the kitchen and prepared his usual nightcap of camomile. When he returned to the living room after fifteen minutes of dreading the other's presence after his little spat, he saw that Cristiano was fast asleep on the sofa.

Most of his food eaten and his pills absent. He had placed the tray neatly on the end table, his cutlery lying obsessively straight.

Cristiano was lying on his side again, one arm folded under his pillow while he was slightly drooling.

His dark curls were a heaping bird nest and seemed to stick to his forehead. He looked surprisingly peaceful, considering the day he had and not a day over twenty-five. The hard mask he had seen on Cristiano during the night had evaporated, turning his facial expressions soft and endearing. Karim caught himself staring at the sight longer than he realized was normal.

When a droplet of sweat dripped down from Cristiano's forehead, reaching his chin, he finally pulled himself together again. Right, he needed to focus on getting the Portuguese better. Back to health. 

The doctor had said that he could develop a fever. He needed to be monitored closely the coming hours.

So Karim went upstairs to collect a pillow and his thick blanket and sneaked back down to lie on the opposite sofa.

Luckily he was the proud owner of two of the comfiest sofas in the world, so sleeping wouldn't be much of an issue. He had never been a troubled sleeper anyway.

When he heard the deep, sound of Cristiano's steady breaths he finally succumbed to sleep himself.

That night his dreams were restless and troubling. He was haunted by the ghosts of the day. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC....._


	2. When you were young.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night in Karim's house is a big adjustment for Cristiano. Meanwhile he contemplates on running away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter but I don't have more time to write more. Despite all of that, I'm quite content with this chapter, which isn't something I say often. I'm always super insecure about my writings and I still am, even about this, but I did like making this chapter.
> 
> Hope you guys like it too. If you do, please let me know. Notes keep a writer going, unfortunately we're usually a pretty insecure bunch so we like all the feedback.

_Cristiano._

 

 

 

Cristiano's body was slowly and agonizingly trying to kill him from within. He was absolutely sure of it.

That night at Karim's royal, Arabian palace, it had taken everything in his willpower to prevent him from screaming out. He was in excruciating pain. It was so intense that despite his best efforts he still occasionally felt a furious tear escaping his eyes.

He was used to his fair share of beatings but bruised ribs were always a menace. Every time he drew breath his chest seemed to protest, as if someone was pressing a solid sledgehammer down onto his lungs, squeezing them together, making every in and exhale a torment.

He had broken a rib before but that couldn't even compare to what he was going through right now. Plus, his face was killing him and he could not get comfortable due to all the bruises on his legs and lower abdomen. He figured that he was lucky to walk out of the fight with all of his teeth intact.

Most people who beat him up tactically stayed away from his mouth, probably because they admired that about him. Plus, with his mouth injured and mangled, he could no longer give his infamous and renowned blow jobs. They were his signature move, so to say.

Cris felt as if he was descending into the ninth circle of hell where Lucifer was waiting to swallow him whole for his past sins. And here he thought he was so familiar with all other eight of them that he could elude the final circle but apparently nobody could escape their fate.

For the devil was one tricky bastard. He kept on throwing new loopholes to test his adaptability. Luckily though, Cristiano was a _survivor_. Always had been.  
Even from his very conception he had been forced to struggle for survival.

His mother had tried to abort him but he was surprisingly saved by his father's love and determination to raise him despite their poverty and countless money issues.

When his father had suddenly died due to his alcohol addiction when Cristiano was sixteen, his mother unleashed all of her repressed anger onto him and he decided to leave home to find a better place.

He had blatantly lied to Karim about all of this, stating that he had been only seventeen when his folks kicked him out, while he ran away himself. In fact, most of the things he told about his past had been lies.  
He couldn't help it, lies came easily to him. It was his defense mechanism. The truth could always get you in trouble.

When he left, his brother Hugo tried to stop him but he had always been pretty stubborn, along with a born instinct for flight.  
He stole some money from his sisters and used his personal savings that he earned from summer jobs and moved to Madrid to emancipate himself.

And for a while he actually did pretty good, he had loved his job in the coffee shop, until that day when Jose found him and enrolled him into the arts of the oldest job in the world. He knew that it was because of his looks and killer body and he made plenty of money in a short amount of time.

Jose, being a generous pimp who had a soft spot for him, paid for his hotel rooms and Cris lived there for a long time, enjoying his luxurious lifestyle to the maximum.  
He had always known that it would never last, nothing ever did in the end, but now that everything he had grown so used to was gone, it was hard to go back to wandering on the streets in solitude and poverty.

Cristiano actually  _grieved_ for Jose, the man hadn't been perfect but he was the closest thing to family he had had all those years. Finding him in their shared apartment with a needle in his arm and no heartbeat had really did a number on him.

Cris was the only one who had attended his funeral, which was one of the biggest fears he had for himself. That he would die and that nobody would give a shit.

When Karim had so loosely and innocently offered to give him his job back as a Barista Cristiano had laughed at him, shamelessly mocking the guy who had just saved his life. He had to, even if he hated himself for it a little bit. He couldn't allow hope to creep back into his heart.

Hope was _dangerous_. Something he couldn't afford. Daydreaming of a different, better life was what got you killed in the streets. If you lost focus for a split second you could walk into the proverbial bear trap.

Cristiano had let the illusion of hope go a long time ago. And yet here he was, lying on the most comfortable sofa on the planet, musing on how different everything could be if Karim would keep his word. Maybe he could escape his current environment, just maybe.

The kind, noble Frenchman had seemed dead serious when he had suggested helping him out and Cris didn't take him for a liar or a deceiver. He had enough knowledge of people to see that Karim's intentions were pure as his heart seemed to be.

But unfortunately, his experience had taught him to always expect the worse in people, to avoid further disappointment in his life.

Cris wanted to trust Karim, but the entire meaning of the word had become foreign and elusive to him over the years. As rare as seeing the Loch Ness monster or a white unicorn.

Trust was ever so easily broken. Men seemed to make so many empty promises.

He stared at the big, black and white clock that hang in the living room, noticing that it was only four in the morning. Karim's sleeping silhouette was resting easy on the opposite couch.

That gesture had taken Cristiano by surprise, which was a shock in it's own seeing how he wasn't easily mistaken in people- that Karim actually taken the doc's advice to heart and refused to let him out of his sight.

That one of the best players in the world voluntarily slept on his bloody _sofa_  to play his personal nurse had never happened, not even in his darkest dreams.

It made Cris feel somewhat guilty for being so insulting to Karim just before the medication made him doze off. Karim had fed him, paid his bills and tended to his every need and as a thank you he had been rather rude. Well _really_ _rude_ actually.

When Karim woke up, he needed to be gone. If not, Karim would surely throw him out for his ungrateful behavior anyway. Cristiano didn't think about where he was going to go, he never did. He figured it out as he went on.

Never having a home entailed that you had to make one in the little things that happened to you that made you feel happy and safe.

It had been a while since Cristiano had felt happy and safe like tonight. Karim's house was warm and welcoming and seemed to breathe Karim in every aspect of it. His character was showing in the family pictures on the wall, which stood in a strange contrast to some of the rather abstract paintings that were hanging in the living room.

That and the godawful Zebra rug on the carpet made Cristiano smirk.

This house had so much potential but it screamed contradictions. If only he could be his decorator, he would make it into a real palace, suited for the king that he felt Karim was. He deserved the best. Though Karim could not have behaved any less like a king. He was totally humble and had no arrogance over him whatsoever.

Karim was in a weird way Cristiano's idol, though he would never admit that to him, that made him look as immature as it made him look weak.

He had Karim as an example mostly due to his timeless endurance and determination to fight for his spot in the team, Cris could relate to that considering his life was one giant battle. He figured that if Karim could pick himself up time and again and rise above everyone's expectations that he could too.

One of the paintings near the crackling fireplace caught his attention, it was one of a snowy day in Paris, completed with the typical Eiffel tower. It wasn't bad actually, but it seemed a bit out of place for a guy like Karim, who didn't seem to be that romantic to Cris.

His fingers were itching to get up and hang the paintings straight, seeing how it was slightly dangling to the right.  
He briefly wondered why Karim would let it hang sloppily like that, but then reasoned that he had probably not seen it, or just wasn't that much of a perfectionist like he was.

The inside of Karim's Mercedes had been a bit of a mess too, candy wrappers everywhere and empty bottles under the passengers seat. Cris assumed that when you had a little kid running around your house would get insanely messy and disorganized. Kids had a knack for that.

There were traces of Melia all over Karim's house. There was a tiny chair for her at a cute pink play table in the corner of the living room. He spotted pictures and drawings of her everywhere and truckload of toys, mostly of Dora the explorer in multiple cupboards. On the fridge were a few portraits she made, one with her tiny hands in navy blue paint on it.

Karim made a little grunting noise in his sleep that spooked Cris, he turned his attention toward the striker once more and gazed intensely at him, trying to read his emotions.  
The iPhone to his left suddenly started buzzing and the screen lit up. Karim's dark eyes flew open and he yawned and stretched for a few seconds.

When he turned to Cris, their eyes met and it was quiet for a while, clearly neither one of them knew what to say. ''Why are you still up? Have you even slept at all?'' Karim finally asked sharply.

''I did yes, but right now I can't sleep, the pain meds are wearing off I think,'' Cristiano retorted, as he repressed a painful grunt. Talking hurt so fucking much. ''Why are _you_ up?''

''I set my alarm to make sure you were okay, the doc said I had to check in on you during the night because of your possible concussion, feed you more painkillers if you needed them,'' Karim shrugged, as if it was nothing.

He felt his jaw falter, probably making him look ridiculous. ''Are you nuts Karim? It's fucking _four_ in the morning!''  
Karim gave him a forced smile but sighed disappointed. ''I believe the words you were looking for was ''thank you for caring Karim,''

Cristiano exasperated deep, he knew he shouldn't argue with Karim considering that he barely knew him at all, but conflict was so deep embroidered into his personality that he did it automatically. Even with relative strangers. What he seemed to forget was that while he might 'know' the Frenchman from TV, Karim had never met him before.

He knew he had to fix his mistake. ''I'm sorry Karim, I know I'm sounding really ungrateful and spoiled but you have to understand that I'm just not used to people as-kind as you. It's a bit of an adjustment for me okay, it's nothing personal because I can tell that your intentions are good,''

''I get that okay, I do, but you need to cut the crap. This whole keeping everybody at distance front you're putting up is starting to get on my nerves,'' Karim stated, looking more aggravated than truly angry.

Cris meanwhile was kicking himself for already pissing off his new ally and future possible friend. That had to be a new record, usually it took at least a day before he turned people against him with his stupid habits and OCD traits.

Well at least he had one thing in common with Karim now, they both broke records, although Karim's were far more impressive.

Karim rose from his sofa and went into the kitchen to get more pain meds for Cris and a glass of water. He also had a banana in his other hand. ''Eat that, can't take the pills on an empty stomach,'' he grumbled as he shoved the fruit in Cris' hand.

''Wait, sit down with me please, I need to explain some things to you,'' Cristiano knew that he would have to gravel to get Karim on his side again.

The Frenchman eventually did what he asked and sat down a few inches away from him, looking rather pensive. ''Okay, I'm listening,'' he said calmly, eyes a bit warmer now. Thankfully.

Cris swallowed thickly and ate his banana in silence as he tried to prepare himself for what he was going to say. When he ate it all, he swallowed his meds and took another deep breath.

He had decided to come clean about everything and hoped that he wouldn't ruin it all with the truth. ''I lied to you yesterday, my parents didn't kick me out, I ran away. And I wasn't seventeen, I was barely sixteen,''

Karim frowned confused. ''Why would you lie about some small detail like that?''

''Because I hardly _knew_ you, I didn't know if I could really trust you, and besides: lies are unavoidably linked with my profession. It was a force of habit I'm afraid. I swear that I didn't say it on purpose, it just happens,''

''But you still hardly know me, so what changed? Why do you suddenly trust me with the truth?''

''Because you set your alarm to make sure that I was okay. This might sound insane but that's one of the sweetest and most considerate things anyone has ever done for me. You actually give a crap about my wellbeing. Sincerely.  
To me that's really rare and yes I know how pathetic that sounds. I taught myself to never trust anyone again in my life, after the way I've been treated but right now, I'm choosing to step out of my comfort zone and I'm actually going to trust you.  
I've thought about this all night and I hate being so cynical and negative about people. When I look into a mirror I can't stand my own reflection. I've become such a bitter monster I can barely live with myself.  
I want to believe that people can be good again. And I believe that if anyone can restore my faith in mankind that it's you Karim.  
Your intentions toward strangers are really impressive. Before you did this, I had every intention of leaving your home before you woke up, leaving you a nice note as a thank you and nothing more, but now...well let's just say that I changed my mind.  
Maybe it's time for me to grow up and try to get my old life back,'' Cristiano confessed.

Afterward he felt so much lighter, as if the past suddenly hurt him a lot less. It had felt so incredibly good to speak so openly to someone about all of this. To actually open himself up and to not have to worry about the consequences.

To Karim it might have sounded silly, but him setting an alarm in the middle of the night to help Cris out, was the turning point for him. His eye opener. Somehow he sensed that Karim was safe, that he would never intentionally harm him in any way.

Everybody needed to believe in something right? To help get them through their daily troubles. Cristiano figured that betting on Karim was one of the best decisions he had ever made.

Karim extended his hand out to Cristiano, as an offer as friendship probably. ''Thank you for telling me, I respect that. So call a truce then?''

Cristiano took his hand, which was surprisingly warm and nodded. ''Truce, and I'm really sorry for being a shit and lying to you. I'm really grateful to you for doing all this by the way, in case I hadn't told you that before. You're a very good man Karim. _Truly_. Thank you for caring about me,''

Their hands separated again and Cristiano felt himself missing the other man's touch. The hand had felt so comforting and warm, like a hot bath after a winter storm.  
''You're welcome,'' Karim mumbled, looking a bit embarrassed now.

''You should get some sleep, you have training in the morning don't you?''  
''I do, but I'm not going to go,''

''What? You _have_ to! You can't just call in sick, I need Real to win their games!''

Karim grinned. ''Jeez relax dude, it's a _voluntary_ recovery training. I only told Marcelo I would go to please him, but he won't mind if I cancel it. Gives him an excuse to stay home too, he's so lazy,''

''Still, you should go, stay in shape,''  
''Are you calling me fat?'' Karim teased, as he narrowed his eyes.

''Don't be crazy, I just don't get why you won't go,''

''I can't go Cristiano, the doc said I have to monitor you twenty four hours to make sure your head is okay-remember?''

Cris couldn't believe his ears. This was so foreign that it was like someone was talking to him in Chinese. ''You're staying home for me? You're fucking nuts, just call someone to babysit me! You shouldn't bail on training just for me,''

Yes Cristiano realized that he was being far too direct, once again, but people didn't change did they? He had always been straightforward about everything. Even as a child. 

''Maybe not, but I am and you're not going to to change my mind about it. You're not the only stubborn person in this house, believe me. You might not be used to it, but in my culture we take care of each other, we are kind to strangers. Now get some sleep and don't you dare be gone in the morning,'' Karim threatened, sounding dead serious now. He patted Cristiano's back briefly and wandered to his own couch again to lie on his side as he tugged the blanket over himself.

''I won't be gone, I promise,''  
''Good,''

''Karim?''  
''Hmm?''

''Do you really think you can help me get my job back?''

''Of course I can, I have plenty of connections everywhere, I'll put them to good use okay? Just have a little faith,''

Maybe it was the definitiveness in Karim's tone, or maybe it were the painkillers, but in that moment Cristiano believed and had complete trust in everything that Karim had said to him. Which was a huge victory on its own.

''Thank you Karim, for everything,''  
Karim grinned cheekily. ''I should keep feeding you pain meds, you're much nicer on them,''

''And _thank_ _you_ for that,'' Cris retorted sarcastically, but he smiled anyway.

When the pain in his aching ribs ebbed away he finally found some rest again and quickly succumbed to the first peaceful, dreamless sleep he had in ages.

 

 

 

 

 

_TBC......._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what did you think?
> 
> Thanks for reading <3
> 
> And this story will be happier soon I promise. I just like dark backgrounds and morally grey characters. I'm weird like that.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. Let me know if you do. Notes and kudos keep me going and make my day. 
> 
> Oh btw I don't ship Cris and Karim romantically in the real world. They are my ultimate BROTP, but I have enjoyed writing them romantically before and I probably will do that again.
> 
> Karim may be a bit out of character, considering his religion. But then again, most of this story is not canon. I don't own any of the characters.


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